A Lonely God
by devilishlysas
Summary: The 12th... or is it 13th Doctor is different, but how different? The Doctor's cycle is about to complete and Clara is about to find out what happens to companions that 'save' the Doctor once they have fulfilled their purpose. Oneshot take on the new series of Who with Peter's Doctor. Rated T just in case for insinuation. One-shot.


**A LONELY GOD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, even if I wish I did.**

Clara watched the Doctor warily as he pulled and pushed buttons on the Tardis console that she was now all too familiar with. She might have known 'what' he was doing now, but she didn't know 'why', not now he was a brand new man. This new face, new him, it was a shock; not that he _could_ change, after all she knew every one of his faces, but that she could reach a place where he was so unfamiliar. Sometimes she barely remembered the girl who'd met the mad man in a monks outfit on her doorstep. It was a thousand years and so many, many lifetimes ago for her now, she'd spent only one of those lifetime without the Doctor... and not even that, he'd popped in and out of her childhood, she'd seen that in the 11ths time stream, she'd been his obsession. It seemed she was still the 12th's. Or was it 13th, buried Doctor or not, he was still the Doctor, she counted it even if he didn't.

"Just stop it." She tried not to make it sound like the command it was, and he did pause for a fraction of a second, his new slighter frame seeming somehow more imposing as he stared at her through slate blue eyes; but only for a second as he deliberately pulled the wibbly wobbly lever, not looking at her. "This is wrong and you know it." She continued, seeing the flicker of what was an undeniable smirk, curl his lips, which ratcheted up her irritation another notch.

He finally looked at her, standing tall arms crossed, a scowl on his face that threatened much, his new modern suit and crisp white shirt so different from his predecessor so much more serious, but undeniably colder. "Clara. This is my ship, I decide what is wrong."

Clara held his stony gaze, "That sort of thing doesn't fly with me anymore _Timelord._" She stressed the word, throwing the scorn on it that it deserved now that she knew what that word meant. She had lived and breathed that word, that life, more than once. Knew the arrogance that every one of his species harboured; because she had harboured it to, parts of her even still foolishly clung to it.

The new Doctor stepped away from the console approaching her as she stood, cuffed to the railing, trapped, as she tried not to recoil from him entering her personal space, leaning in until she had to hold her breath or confuse her senses with the scent of him that never, ever, changed. He was aware of her discomfort, how could he not be, he was _him_, but he clearly didn't care as he held his position.

"You possess the entire knowledge of my time-line, you know each and every one of my deepest," he leant in closer his lips brushing her ear and sending a shiver down her spine. "darkest." He rasped and she turned away closing her eyes and trying not to let the images in, "secrets." His hand raised to her cheek, gently turning her face back as she opened her eyes onto his, the eyes she once could have drowned in, seemed to cut now. "You were a Time-Lady." He said the word with the type of reverence that only the very alone could manage.

"More than once." She corrected, seeing his smirk become a genuine smile for a fraction of a second as his hand stroked lower his thumb brushing over her lips and down to her chin, he grasped it firmly, drawing her face closer still to his until their noses almost touched. It was an over familiar gesture that she'd have accepted from his predecessor; but from him it made her insides twist with sharp unease.

"You know as well as I do, why I can never take you home." His words were rasped but his meaning was clear, his will resolute. He'd never let her out of his sight again, she was certain.

"Coward." Clara hissed, not buying his 'protect the knowledge, protect the secrets' spiel. "You just don't want to lose the one person you have a connection with, even if that connection was entirely of your own making."

The Doctor shrugged and pressed a kiss to her nose, almost in a mockery of the gentle kiss the last Doctor would have placed on her forehead. "And what is so wrong with that?" he was smiling dangerously now, his chest brushing against her arm as she tugged lightly on the metal cuff. "There was a time you'd have been thrilled for me to notice you... to strap you to the Tardis and fly you off into forever."

"Things change." she replied. "You change, sometimes for the better, sometimes not."

"And I take it this is one of those 'not' times." His arms slid around her waist and she gasped in surprise as he bought his entire body flush against hers, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close until she could feel the distinct thumping of his double heart beat.

"Definitely a not." She acknowledged staring up at him and feeling his fingers tense against her waist becoming almost painful in his need to keep her close. Clara broke the look, hoping that would force him to break his contact. It didn't.

"You need me." He responded and Clara felt the frown crease her forehead as she wilted slightly. It was of course an argument he knew he would win.

"I don't have to like it." She muttered; trying to slide out of his grasp and utterly failing, all she managed was to turn, so that her back was pressed against his chest, his arms transferred, immobilising her arms in one fluid movement.

"That is why I'm giving you this gift Clara... because you don't want it." His lips pressed firmly to her cheek and she sighed, knowing that he was right and quite rightly hating him for it.

"Making me a Time-Lady again won't change anything between us." She'd told him before, but she hoped that maybe this time he'd hear her.

"We'll see. I changed, and that changed your feelings towards me... I'm certain not so long ago you were willingly throwing yourself into oblivion for me." His brash Scottish accent did clever things to the word 'oblivion' that made her shudder anew, who knew she had a thing for that?

"Foolishness of youth." She sighed, dropping her head against his shoulder and turning to stare up at him, her action momentarily surprising him as his hands loosened for a fraction. Her free hand rose and she brushed it across his cheek. "And my feelings haven't changed." It was an unfortunate realisation, but she wasn't prone to lying to herself, never had been, in any incarnation. "Unfortunately." She added dropping her hand and he finally released her, stalking back to his console and deliberately not looking at her, though she was certain he was smiling.

"Please take the cuffs of." She implored him and he rested his hands on the console, his head dropping for a fraction.

"Let us have no more lies between us Clara. You and I both know that without those cuffs you'd steal this Tardis from under my nose." He glanced back at her. "Screaming genius, remember." He tapped his temple, clearly he hadn't forgotten she'd once claimed that. Or that she knew what he'd scored back on Gallifrey when he'd graduated... she'd scored better. Infinitely better.

Her head pounded and she hissed, closing her eyes and clasping her free hand to her forehead, trying not to throw up or pass out from the sudden pain that pulsed with her heartbeat. Then there was that... too much life, too many memories in her head, too many for any human consciousness to make sense of. All of those lives, all those genetic differences imposed on her, crashing together, she was like a vase he'd glued back together painstakingly until she resembled the same shape, but she'd always have bits missing, misshapen and cracked, she'd never _be_ Clara again, the vase was gone. It was just like the soufflé, she was just the recipe now... and it had been changed, and fiddled with over millennia. Who knew what it would make now?

"Your body remembers how to be what it needs to be, it _wants_ to be it again. It's the only way." The Doctor told her quietly and she could almost hear the pain in it despite what he wanted her to think about him. He cared... that was the whole point. It was just unfortunately the selfish kind. Maybe he wasn't so different after all this time around, he'd always been fundamentally selfish.

"You need me to be it; you _want_ me to be it." She reasoned and he didn't bother to lie to her, which she had to admit was refreshing.

"Tell me you don't want to be what you were?" He challenged and she didn't know what to say. How do you refuse immortality... or a Universe of knowledge running through your head, ideally without it causing some sort of stroke?

"I don't want to lose my humanity." She settled on what she thought was the true cause of her unease.

The Doctor huffed. "I'm afraid then my dear you are going to be disappointed, because you lost that the moment you stepped into my time-stream."

Clara felt the words like a kick in the gut; but it wasn't something new, deep down she'd known that and worse. "Before actually, I think I lost it when I got sucked into the wifi and my brain got filled with all that computer crap. After that I wasn't me anymore... I was something else, a tool; different ingredients got mixed in, the recipe changed. It wasn't supposed to change. I was supposed to be soufflé girl."

He looked almost scornfully back at her. "You _are_ soufflé girl, that's what you became. The recipe was improved upon, be grateful." It was almost callous, but then she rather thought that was _this_ Doctor's way. If not he was certainly becoming adept at it. _'A sliver of ice in his heart.'_ That was what the psychic had told her about him, but psychic's were notoriously unreliable, Clara rather thought she'd gotten the 11th and 12th confused.

* * *

The planet was a wasteland; at least it appeared that way to Clara as she stepped out, her hands still firmly cuffed together, following at the Doctor's insistent tug at her arm. The TARDIS doors slammed with what Clara imagined was irritation. Clearly the 'old cow' and she were in agreement with regards to this Doctor's new style of doing things.

"Can we talk about this?" She asked as her feet shuffled along the dusty ground, dragging.

The Doctor glanced back at her and gave her an almighty tug that almost pulled her off her feet. "Don't be childish Clara, it doesn't become a woman your age."

Clara felt the desperate urge to stick her tongue out at him, but she imagined that would rather prove his point. So she just dug her heels in further, trying not to wince in pain as the cuffs dug into the skin around her wrists with his insistence.

"I'll carry you my dear if it is simpler." He threatened and Clara relented, knowing he wasn't joking.

"I'm begging you. I don't want this."

"Tough." He snarled, turning back to fix his penetrating ice cold eyes on hers. Even like this they were as expressive as ever... and just as dangerous.

"As cruel as ever Doctor." She bit out, truly disappointed once more in this man who could be so incredible at times... and so monstrous at others.

He stopped up short, yanking her hands up to his chest and clasping the back of her head with his free hand, his mouth crashed against hers and she inhaled him, struggling for breath as his lips devoured hers. Clara pulled back sharply, furiously shoving at his chest with her cuffed hands until he relented with a deep sigh. But his hand stayed firmly around her head, holding her steady. "I've lost too much in my life too loose this." He warned and she swallowed her retort, his tone was as dangerous as she had ever heard it and right now with the taste of him lingering on her lips, she was too afraid too push. He shook her lightly and dropped his hand, grasping her bound wrists and dragging her onwards.

"The Ood. This is your solution?" she sneered, furious at him for his presumption. Her Doctor would never have treated her like this, oh he'd terrified her before, frightened her thoroughly but this... menacing, was too much. "You're not the Doctor." She bit out, a dark thought spiralling inside of her, "And you're not the 12th... I know what I saw inside your time stream, the self you tried to hide, the murderer you buried."

"You know nothing." He snarled, not looking back, not giving her even that courtesy.

"I know a name." She responded and he paused. "I _remember_ a name." She clarified and she felt him still even as he continued dragging her onwards. "I know who you are." She bit out, not relenting almost praying he wouldn't make her say it, even the suggestion of it was enough to reduce her to a quivering mass. Saying it would make it real, it would complete the cycle... "The Valeyard."

He didn't stop, didn't flinch and they continued to march onwards.

"I am the Doctor." He replied his voice strained, she didn't know him well but she could recognise that tone anywhere as he struggled with his inner demons.

"So was the Valeyard... wasn't that the point. His dreaded 13th incarnation. A monster willing to destroy his own timeline for the chance to extend his own lifespan just a fraction more."

He stopped. Clara almost crashed into his back and he turned slowly his lips curling into a smile that chilled her to her core... it was manic.

"My beautiful Clara... always helpful." His eyes practically danced and Clara felt her stomach sink with the connections it took her somewhat slower human brain to make.

"No." She breathed, trying not to burst into tears. It was hardly the show of strength she wanted right now, but her stomach had twisted into a knot and her chest felt like there was an elephant sat on it. The Doctor had never cared about living forever, living longer... why would he suddenly want that? He wouldn't, his life had been long enough, in most respects she knew he'd welcome its end this time round. So why had the Doctor become the Valeyard, obsessed with saving himself... he hadn't, dear god he hadn't. The Doctor had become the Valeyard to save her.

Tears flowed and she felt her knees weaken, he caught her of course. "Don't become this, not for me, please, or what was the point of it all, why did I save you?"

"Shhh." He whispered, kissing her temple fiercely "Silly impossible girl. Of course I'm going to save you. It's what I do." He had that manic glint again in his eye, but there was a deep seated sadness behind it all, fuelling his desperation that she now knew she would forever be the cause of. The Impossible Girl, Born to Save the Doctor... had doomed him. It wasn't fair, but then perhaps that was why the Lonely God was always so, because he knew the Universe's great secret... he knew it didn't care about fair.


End file.
